The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-11-06

/ TO the one who excites our sympathy. and from
| whom we seem on the brink of being separated
/ forever.
| Had he really married her at thar time all
| would be settled now. But he took too much
| thought; she might have died. and then he had
| his reason. If indeed it had turned out so,
| should now be perhaps sad woman; but not q
sss Ten one. ~. me possibility OF
| of my agitation. Every thing hangs by a thrssd
Suppose I tell her the marriage was a mockery;
suppose she is indignant with me and with him
for tie deception-and then2 Otherwise, sup
pose she is not indignant but foreives all; he is
bound to marry her; and honor constrains mo to
urge him thereto, in spite Of what he protests,
and TO smooth the way to this issue by my
method of informing her. have meant to tell
her the last month-eyer since she has been
strong enough to bear such tidines but 1 have
been without the power - the moral force.
Surely must write. and get him to come and
assist me.
does not come, the five months of his enforced
absence having EXPIRED and still more she won
ders why he does not write oftener. His last
letter was cold. she says and she fears he regrets
his marriage, which be may only have celebrated
with her for PHYS sake, thinking she was sure
to die Ii makes ones heart bleed to hear her
towering thus near the truth, and yet never
discerning its actual shape.
minor trouble besets me, too in the person
of the young Scripture reader whose conscience
prcks him for the part ne played Surely am
punished, if ever woman were, for a too ingeni-
Gus perversion Of her better Judgment!
April 2.-She is practically we'll. The faint
full heretofore. But she still wonders
what she can have done to offend ''her dear hus-
band and have been obliged to tell the small
est part of the truth-an unImportant fragment
OF the whole, in fact. I said that feared for
the moment he might regret the precipitancy of
the act, which her illness caused, his affairs not
having been quite sufficiently advanced for
marriage just then, though he will doubtless
como TO her as he has a home ready.
Meanwhile have written to him, peremptorily,
to come and relieve me in this awful dilemma.
April 10.-To my alarm the letter lately ad-
dressed to him at Venice, where he is staying,
we'll the last one she sent him. have re-
ceived no reply. She thinks ne is i'll. do not
quite think that, but wish could hear from
him. Perhaps the premptoriness of my words
has offended him; it grieves me to think it pos
sible. offend him! But too much of this. l
must tell her the truth, she may in her ig-
norance commit herself to some course other
that may be ruinously compromising. She said
plaiutively just now that If he could see her.
and know how occupied with him and him
alone is her every waking hour, she is he
would forgive her the wicked presumption of
becoming his wife. Very sweet all that, and
touching. Icould not conceal my tears.
April 15.-The house is in confusion; my
father is angry and distressed and 1 am dis
tracted. Caroline has disappeared-eone away
secretly. / cannot help thinking that I know
whore she is gone to- How guilty / SEEM and
how innocent she! O that had told her before
now!
l oclock.-No trace of her as yet We find
also that the little waiting maid we have here
in training has disappeared with Caroline, and
there is not much doubt that Caroline fearing
to travel alone. has induced this girl to 60 with
her as companion. I am almost she has
started in desperation to find him. aud that
Venice is her goal. Why should she run away
If not to join her husband. she thinks him?
Now that l consider there have been indications
of this wish in her for days, in birds of pas
sage there Turk signs of their incipient inten-
tion and yet I did not think she would have
taken such extreme step. unaided and with
out consulting I only jot down the
bare facts-I have no time for reflections. But
fancy Caroline travelling across the continent
of Europe with a chit OF girl, who will be
more of charge than an assistance. They
will be a mark for every marauder who en-
counters them.
Evening. 8 o'clock.-Yes it is as 1 surmsed
She has gone to join him. A note posted by her
in Budmouth at daybreak has reached me this
afternoon-thanks to the fortunate chance of
one of the servants calling for letters in town
to-day. or I should not have got it until to-mor-
row. She merely asserts her determination of
going to him, and has started privately, that
nothing may hinder her; stating nothing about
her route. That such gentle thing should sud
denly become so calmly resolute quite surprises
me. Alas. he may have left Venice-she may
not find him for weeks-may not at all.
Ny father on learning the facts. babe me at
once have everything ready by this evening"
in time to drive to the train that meets the night
an hour to spare before start, relieve the
suspense of waiting By taking up my pen He
says overtake her we must, and calls Charles |
the hardest of names. He believes, of course,
that she ia merely infatuated girl rushing off |
to meet her lover; and how can the wretched |
tell him that she Is more, and in a sense better
than that-yet not sufficiently more and better |
to make this flight to Charles anything but a |
still greater danger to her than mere lovers |
impulse. We shall go by. way of Paris, aud We
think we may overtake her there. hear mY |
father walking r.stlessly up and down the hall |
and can write NO more.
vIIL-sHE TRAVELS IN PURSUIT.
April 16-Evenine: Paris: Hotel -. There
Is no overraking her at this place; but she has
been here. as thought, no other hotel in Paris
being known to her. We go on tomorrow
April 1s-venice. morning of adventures
and emotions which leave me sick and weary,
ana YET unable to Sleep though have lain down
on the sofa of my room for more than an hour
IN the attempt. therefore make up my diary
% date in hurried fashion, for the sake of the
,iddance it affords to ideas which otherwise re-
main suspended holly in the brain.
We arrived here this morning in broad sun
light, which lit up the sea-girt buildings as we
approached so that they seemed like a city of
ork floating raft-like on the smooth blue deem
But only glanced from the carriage window at
he lovely scene, and we were soon across the
water and inside the railway sta
ion. When got the front steps the row of
lack gondolas and the shouts of the gondoliers |
o bewildered my father that he was understood
o require two gondolas instead of one with two |
ars, and so found him in one and myself in
mother. We got this righted after a while, and
7ere rowed at once to the hotel the Riva |
egll Schiavonl, where NJ. de la Heste had been
laying when we last heard from him. the way
eng down the Grand canal for some distance
nder the Rlalto. and then by narrow canals
Thich eventually brought US under the Bridge
Sighs-harmonious to moods.-and out |
gain into open water. The scene was purity
self as to color, but it cruel that should
ehold it for the first time under such circum-
Iances.
As soon entered the hotel which is an
ID fashioned place. like most places here where
sople taken en- pension as we'll as the
rdinary way, rushed to the framed list of
sitors hanging in the hail. and in a moment I
Nv Charles's name upon it among the rest !
ut she was our chief thought turned to the
all porter, and-kn owing that she would have
aveled as Madame de Ia Heste"-I asked for
Or under that name without my father hearing I
he, poor soul. was making confused inquiries
inside the door about IAN English lady" as if I
ere were nota score of English ladies at hand.) t
''She has just come" said the porter '
Madame came by the very early train this c
orning, when Monsieur asleep. and she S